The Temptress
by imagine131
Summary: My name is Layla Devon. I am very intelligent, very beautiful, and very determined. You may think I’m arrogant, and that’s because I am." Layla Devon moves to Seattle and stirs up trouble for some of our favorite surgeons. Very dark, very different.
1. Chapter 1

**I was in a weird place when I thought of the idea for this. I really wanted to create an OC and thought it'd be interesting to write as the bad guy for once. So, if you hate the main character, I'm doing my job. Enjoy!**

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My name is Layla Devon. I am very intelligent, very beautiful, and very determined. You may think I'm arrogant, and that's because I am. I'm a surgeon, I have to be arrogant. You can't succeed if you don't believe 110% in your abilities and to do that, you have to be a bit of an ass. It's the way it goes.

I moved to Seattle reluctantly. Being from California, I'm spoiled by the sun and the sand, and the coolness of Seattle didn't quite agree with me. But the Chief at Seattle Grace is trying to build up an army of skilled surgeons to bring his hospital up from the number 12 spot. And with the money he was offering to get me to be his head cardiac surgeon…well, I simply couldn't refuse.

So now here I stand, in the lobby of the large and unfamiliar hospital, feeling thoroughly out of place. Attendings, residents, and interns ran around in blue scrubs and $12 sneakers. They all knew exactly where they were going and what they needed to do there. That I liked, because I'm the same way. You have to move with a purpose or there really isn't any reason to move at all.

The Chief found someone to show me around the hospital. Every brightly lit hallway looked exactly the same: white lights, scrubs, cold metal. The man showing me around looked more like an excited little boy with light brown hair and blue eyes. He introduced himself as Dr. O'Malley, a resident. I was immediately disinterested. I'm not prejudiced, per se, it's just that I prefer men with more…experience.

"Thank you very much," I said sweetly, flashing my glittering white teeth in the young doctor's direction. His bright smile faltered for a moment, his mouth hanging slightly open. I wasn't kidding when I said I was beautiful. It was a brilliant gift to have.

"N-No problem," he stuttered, laughing nervously. His one hand absentmindedly went through his short hair. He began to walk away, backwards at first, stumbling over his feet. After a cheerful wave from me, he turned and awkwardly half-ran down the corridor. I laughed inwardly. He was cute but definitely not my type.

"So?" a voice behind me asked. I turned to see the Chief standing a few feet away. He was pretty tall but between my natural height and my stiletto heels, I was almost level with him.

"It's nice," I said pleasantly. "When do I start?"

"How's Monday?" He was trying to conceal his excitement, but I could tell he was extremely relieved that I had accepted the position.

"Sounds great," I agreed. He went back to work with a grin. I noticed pep in his step as he walked away. This time, I couldn't contain the laughter that was forming inside of me and had to head down the hallway in the opposite direction so he wouldn't hear.

It turns out that this detour was for the better. It allowed me to explore the hospital and participate in my favorite sport ever created—People Watching. Leaning against a nurses' station in the distance was a pretty blonde woman. She worked with a smile and there were animals stitched into her white lab coat. Peds.

She was approached by a dark haired Latino woman. She was curvy but fairly good looking. She grinned at the Peds surgeon, and—surprise!—gave her a kiss. Lesbians. That was interesting.

_Now this is better_, I found myself thinking, turning my attention to another doctor. He was tall, muscular, and _very_ hot. He was headed in my direction, but I didn't look away, not even as he drew so close to me that I could see the few gray hairs on his head. His ice eyes locked onto my deep green ones. Not even that heart-breaking stare could make me turn away.

"Can I help you?" he asked smoothly. His calm demeanor and stunning looks could mean only one thing: he was a player. That was perfect.

"Maybe," I replied teasingly. I noticed him bite the inside of his cheek.

"Mark Sloan, plastics," he introduced himself, holding out his hand.

"Plastics?" I laughed, shaking his hand. "Of course you are."

"And just who might you be?" His voice trailed off expectantly.

"I am Layla Devon. New cardiac surgeon here. From California," I responded. He raised his eyebrows, popping out his lower lip.

"Interesting. Maybe I'll be seeing you around sometime then," Mark Sloan said. I very much hoped so.

"Maybe," I repeated. Even though we had nothing else to say to each other, we remained standing where we were, barely a foot apart from each other.

"Mark Sloan!" I looked around Mark's muscular physique to see the dark-haired lesbian racing over to us.

"Yes?" he asked her, sounding slightly annoyed.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? You have a girlfriend Mark. Remember Lexie? That twelve-year-old you've been doing?" Mark rolled his eyes, turning to his friend.

"Yes, I am aware," he said, his voice exaggerated. The lesbian stood with one hand on her hip, staring at Mark with disapproving eyes, her eyebrows hidden by her bangs. "There's nothing wrong with talking to a new surgeon."

"There is when the surgeon's a chick and she looks like that!" I wondered if I should consider that a compliment. "You're a retired manwhore; you can't be trusted around women." Mark looked at me, his beautiful eyes imploring.

"It's okay. We were done here anyway," I interjected, my voice bittersweet. Mark's friend threw me a look, rolled her eyes and sighed at Mark, then left in a huff, probably to go seek comfort in her girlfriend.

"Sorry about that. Callie's worried I'm going to cheat on my girlfriend," Mark explained apologetically.

"No, it's okay. I understand. I'll see you around then?" I let a hopeful tone sneak into my voice. Mark nodded. The serious look on his face was so hot. I waved as I turned on my heel and left, hoping that it had the same effect on him as it had on that other doctor. What was his name? O'Donnell?…O'Brian?…no, there was an 'M' in it….Oh well. I didn't care about him anyway.

So Mark Sloan had a girlfriend…was that a deal breaker? I didn't think so….

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**Hehe I feel so evil. Please review with your thoughts, you have no idea how much they help.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm glad you're all picking up on Layla. If only Mark were as smart...**

**Anyways, thanks for reading and reviewing. Enjoy!**

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It's been two weeks since I began working at Seattle Grace Hospital as the head cardiac surgeon. Two weeks since I met the man of my dreams, Mark Sloan. Two weeks since I learned that the man of my dreams had a girlfriend. Two weeks since I realized that I didn't care.

In those two weeks, I've learned a lot. I've learned that the on-call rooms are used for sex, not sleep. The elevators have a reputation as the hospital's make-out central. And the little docs are eager to the point of being annoying, hoping to scrub in on even the most boring surgeries.

It wasn't hard to win the respect of half the hospital. It wasn't even that hard to win the respect of the entire hospital. Play nice and save lives and they pretty much love you, which fits nicely into my plan of action.

I don't actually have a 'plan of action', per se, just an overall goal: win over Mark Sloan. Somehow I figure having the hospital on my side will help me out. Because having the hospital on my side means that I have Mark Sloan on my side. The only two people in Seattle Grace who don't like me are Callie Torres, the lesbian, and Lexie Grey, Mark's girlfriend.

It can be a little annoying sometimes. Torres and Grey have friends that they use to help keep Mark away from me. Thankfully most of them are distracted by the innocent mask I wear. Too bad Torres and Grey can see through that mask though, they're making my life very difficult.

Thankfully Mark thinks they're being paranoid. Mark thinks I'm the sweetest thing and a great friend. He sure has made himself comfortable inside my pocket. Now all I need is to find the right time to take him out and play with him….

It was a Wednesday, 11:15 AM, raining as always. Everyone's hearts were pumping perfectly today and I was thoroughly bored. I made an interesting discovery while passing the O.R. board though. Mark and Torres were going to be scrubbing in on a surgery together in just fifteen minutes. Since I've been here two weeks already, I've been in the O.R. enough to know that doctors talk while operating. They gossip.

So just what would they be talking about while in this surgery together? I smiled, knowing it'd be me they'd talk about. I could already hear Torres, trying to warn him to stay away, trying to tell him I had ulterior motives. But what would Mark say back? Would he give in to her and try to avoid me? Or would he defend me? Now that was an interesting idea.

I decided that I'd just have to sneak into this surgery and find out. It shouldn't be too hard. I'd scrub in before they got there and I'd hide behind some nurses behind them. With scrub caps, gowns, and face masks, there was no way they'd notice me in there. My grin grew as I mentally applauded myself for the fool-proof plan.

Ten minutes later, I was scrubbed in, disguised as a nurse, hiding in the back of the O.R. A few minutes later Mark and Torres walked in together, fully prepared for surgery. I had to remind myself to close my mouth, which had opened involuntarily upon seeing Mark. He was so hot. Every time I was around him, I had to tell myself to calm down. It wasn't love; I think…it was lust.

Mark and Torres seemed to be in the middle of an argument. I shrank back into the shadows behind their backs so I could hear without being seen. I could picture the annoyed look on Mark's face. He wore it every time Torres or Grey brought the subject of moi up.

"You're going out with her tonight? Alone? Are you stupid, Mark? You know what she wants—"

"She doesn't _want_ anything. We're friends," Mark interrupted hotly. I bit my tongue, grinning.

"Oh please, you don't really mean that. Don't you whores all speak the same language? You should be able to read her better than the rest of us," Torres responded with the same amount of heat. I was enjoying this.

"Shut up Callie, just shut up," Mark ordered. Surprisingly, Torres closed her mouth. Mark dropped his voice to little more than a whisper. I took a few steps forward to hear better. "I love Lexie and I wouldn't do anything to hurt her. Little Grey's changed my life. No one looks at me with disgust anymore. I'm through with sleeping around." Ouch. That hurt. "Layla and I are just friends, nothing more, and if she wants more…well, she'll be disappointed, won't she?"

I have to admit, that wasn't what I'd been hoping to hear. But still, I wasn't entirely convinced that he meant it. I wasn't sure if he was saying those things to get Torres off his back or if he was being sincere.

"Then why are you going out with _her_ tonight, and not your girlfriend?" Torres asked. Apparently I wasn't the only one unsure. Before Mark could respond though, the mood in the room changed to panic. One of the machines' beeping had become irregular, quick.

"Shit," Torres yelled. "He's going into heart failure."

"Someone page Devon!" Mark called. A few seconds later, the sound of my pager joined the others in the room. I saw Mark and Torres both tense. Then they turned around in unison. It was almost comical. I probably would have laughed if a) Mark wasn't giving me the look he was, and b) the patient wasn't in trouble.

I stepped up, becoming the serious surgeon I sometimes am, being sure to push Torres hard out of the way. A few stressful minutes later and the patient was stable again. Everything was back to normal. Well, except the fact that my plan was shot and Mark was giving me a look that I did not enjoy.

After being discovered like that, I decided that staying in the O.R. would be a bad idea. I left without saying anything, but didn't go far, for two reasons. One was that it was very possible the patient would have more trouble. The other reason was that, even though he'd be angry and would probably yell, the thought of Mark Sloan talking to me and me alone was too much to resist.

Turns out he was pretty angry when he came out of the O.R. He seemed to notice that I was barely listening to his rant though, because he suddenly gripped my upper arm and pushed me backwards against the wall. I tried not to look happy, but inside there was a fireworks display worthy of the Fourth of July going on.

"What the hell were you doing in my O.R.?" he growled. He was inches from my face. He looked so irresistible, I just wanted to push my head forward and lock lips with him. _Not yet_, I instructed myself. Instead I pretended his aggressiveness scared me. He gave me a small shake and let go, turning away furiously. He probably wouldn't have been so angry if he hadn't been talking about me.

All I could think about was how good his ass looked in those dark blue scrubs.

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**=) And it will only get worse....**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm surprised there are some Team Layla's out there. I never thought of that. Well, here ya go, some more heat. Enjoy!**

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I had to lay low around Mark for the next week or so. He was really freaked out about the O.R. situation and if I wanted to keep my friendship with him, and hopefully get it to escalate to more than friendship, I'd need to stay on his good side. So no more O.R. visits for me for a while.

But that's okay. I heard all I needed to. For instance, I know that he still hasn't caved into Torres' warnings. I know he's not comfortable with being the man with the girlfriend. I know I can get to him. That's what's important.

As I saw him reading a patient's chart by the nurses' station though, I knew it was time to get ballsy again. He took a sip of his coffee and I smiled when I noticed that some of the hot liquid had stuck to his upper lip. It's scary the way things line up like this, always. It's like God wanted me to do this.

"Hey Mark," I greeted happily as I approached him. He jumped at my sudden presence. He looked a little uncomfortable to be standing alone with me. I pouted inwardly. He sort of nodded his head in my direction. "Oh, you got some…" I didn't finish my sentence but instead I stood on the tips of my toes—something I probably didn't have to do with my height, but it gave me an excuse to put my hand on his shoulder—and slowly wiped away the left over coffee with my thumb. Mark stood froze under my touch.

I waited for him to say something, or to move, or…anything. But he didn't. He remained stock-still, staring at me with confusion and fear. So I did something very, very brave. I was astounded at my own audacity, to tell the truth. With my left hand still on his shoulder, I moved my right hand to his chest and delicately laid it against his muscles. Mark shivered slightly.

"Wow," I whispered. "You are _so_ strong."

We stood in silence for several minutes. Neither of us moved. Mark was blinking at me, trying to clear his head. But the lust we both felt—because now I knew that he felt it too—held us there, not just unwilling to move, but unable to move. I heard someone clear their throat behind my back. For a moment I was afraid that it was Torres and I'd be punched in the face if I turn around. But the fact that I wasn't physically dragged away from Mark meant that it probably wasn't her.

It was Grey. Not Mark's Grey, the other one. The older one. They were sisters somehow, but I hadn't quite received the full story yet. My pager always goes off when the nurses are getting to the good parts. She looked uncomfortable; like she knew she had to say something but really didn't want to.

"Derek's looking for you," she finally said to Mark. "He's by the elevators." I had a feeling that she was lying to get him to go away. The elevators, conveniently enough, were no where near where we stood. Mark left eagerly. Grey didn't.

"Yes?" I asked with my authoritative voice.

"This is sort of new to me, but I feel like I should do this…because she's my sister. Lexie's my little sister and Mark's her boyfriend, so I feel like I should warn you to stay away from him…" Grey responded, rambling like she usually does.

I spent a quick minute decided how I should respond her to half-hearted warning. Should I be innocent and pretend not to know what she was talking about, or should I be the bitchy superior and tell her to mind her own business? I figured playing dumb would be a stupid option though, since everyone except for Mark could see what I was doing apparently. I made a mental note to tone it down a bit around others.

"Not that it's any of your business, Grey, but Mark Sloan is just a good friend of mine," I answered coolly. She blinked and rallied, sounding sincere about her fight.

"It is my business," she argued. "You're messing with my sister! I don't want to see her hurt, so just back off, okay?"

She had just about as much guts as I did. And from what the nurses told me, I thought she didn't really care about her sister. So maybe this wasn't so much 'I don't want to see her hurt' as 'I don't want to have to pick up the pieces'. But the way she was acting right now made me unsure, so I didn't comment.

"As much as you think you know everything Dr. Grey, there are still things you don't understand. So keep your nose out of them," I stated, pushing past her down the hallway. I almost walked right into Lexie Grey when I sharply turned the corner. She apologized, flustered. I ignored her and picked up the pace, half running down the hallway in search of an empty on-call room.

It took 5 full minutes to find one. By that time I had almost fallen apart. I wasn't sure what was wrong with me, but my encounter with the Grey sisters after shocking myself in front of Mark had done something. I needed time to think, to judge everyone's reactions and figure out what they meant. And I also needed to figure out why my stomach hurt so badly after seeing Lexie in the hallway, oblivious to my plans.

I started with Mark. He was surprised, of course, but so was I. Confused, but then again, so was I. And afraid. Of what? Of me? I hoped not. Maybe he was afraid of himself, afraid of what he might do. Maybe he just didn't know if he was strong enough. The fact that he didn't push me away and yell at me told me that my second guess was probably right. It looked like Mark was beginning to cave.

Next was Meredith Grey. She was harder to read than Mark was. I was told she was all dark and twisty and that she didn't really care about her sister. But the nurses never finished their story. Has that changed? Has she grown fond of having Lexie around? Or was she just threatening me to keep up appearances. So she could say that she had tried to stop me. Another possibility was that her fiancé had made her say something. He was best friends with Mark, wasn't he?

And little Lexie Grey, poor kid. She had no idea what was happening. It was, in a way, her fault. If Mark was beginning to cave towards me, that must have meant he was unhappy with the way things were. And if he was unhappy, wasn't it his girlfriend's job to change that? But she was still just a child. She dove in way over her head when she decided to go after the player, Mark Sloan.

But me? I had the experience. I could make Mark happy. And I planned to do just that. Although I still didn't know why my stomach felt sick.

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**Things should get more involved next chapter, I think. Keep up the awesome reviewing.**


	4. Chapter 4

**For all you Team Layla-ers out there. This chapter, I have had planned since Tuesday night, but I just got a chance to write it [by hand] last night because I had surgery on Wednesday! Yay! So this chapter got very well developed while chillin in recovery. Also, I did some killer research in lmao. **

**WARNING : This chapter is pushing the boundaries of 'T' ratings. =) Enjoy!**

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I stayed in the on-call room even after my head stopped spinning. I didn't realize until I sat down on the bottom bunk how exhausted I was. Trying to seduce a taken man was a lot of work. But I didn't get much rest.

The doorknob began jiggling furiously. Thankfully I had locked the door because whoever was on the other side was not interested in knocking. Sighing, I pulled open the door, fully prepared to tell the person outside off. I didn't get a chance to do any such thing.

Mark Sloan was on the other side of the door. He shoved me further into the room before I had even opened the door all the way, quickly following me and re-locking the door behind him. He paced in front of me in an agitated manner, his left hand playing absent-mindedly with his hair.

"Yes?" I asked, feigning annoyance. Actually, I was thrilled he was in here. Excitement and tension pulsed through me, raising the hair on my arms and the back of my neck. I could feel a storm coming and that made me very happy. I love storms.

"I'm not stupid," Mark suddenly stated. I sat down on the bed again, confused.

"Okay. I don't think I've ever said you were…."

"I know what's going on, I know what you're doing," he continued, completely ignoring the fact that I'd spoken. "And I don't want this. Okay? I don't want us. I want Lexie, I have Lexie, I'm happy. I'm very happy with Lexie. I don't want us." He stopped pacing and turned to me, his eyes pleading with me to solve his problem. "But for some reason, I want you. I want you so bad it hurts to see you and not be able to touch you. You're driving so god damn insane. I don't just want you; I need you."

And then it happened.

Mark Sloan walked forward, bent down, and kissed me.

It was harsh, hard, and hot. Very hot. I loved every second of it. I loved the way he pushed himself against me. I loved the way his tongue and mine danced like experienced lovers. But what I mostly loved was that Mark Sloan was hungrily, desperately, kissing me.

Soon layers of clothes were impatiently pulled off and thrown into a collective pile on the floor. I lay back onto the bed, my head sinking into the soft pillow. Mark was on top of me on his hands and knees, his head bent towards mine. Neither of us had anything more than underwear on and the feel of our skin brushing together sent shivers throughout my body.

My fingers softly explored his muscled chest and the feel of his hair. I wrapped my legs around him, the need to be as close as possible growing almost unbearable. I could hardly wait for the moment where I would feel him inside of me, when we would be as close as two people possibly could be, when we would merge into one being.

His right hand lightly traced down the side of my body, coming to rest on my bare thigh. Goosebumps sprouted along every one of my limbs. It felt like fireworks were exploding inside of me, threatening to burst out of me. I could feel that Mark was as excited as I was. Both of us more than just wanted this, we needed it, like a drug addict needs his fix.

Suddenly he pulled his head back and stared at me with his intense ice eyes. I glared back at him, wanting to feel his lips on me again.

"God I hate you," he said.

"Then leave," I whispered in response. But I knew what he would say. I pushed my head forward as far as it could go, kissing my way down his neck. Mark moaned softly.

"I can't." I could hear both miserable self-loathing and desperation in the way he spoke. "This is wrong. So why the hell do I want it so badly?"

I had no answer for him. I felt the same way as he did. Why did I want him, why did I need him so much? It wasn't love, I knew that. Plus I knew that he meant it when he said he hated me. But this was more than just attraction we were feeling. I can't describe it as anything but lust and ecstasy.

I moved my mouth back up to his, needing to feel its heat again. Mark eagerly kissed back, but we were both growing bored with this. We were restless. We wanted more. I tucked my thumbs into the waistband of his boxers.

"Mark! Mark, open up. I know you're in there," a voice called through the door. Lexie's voice. Insistent knocking punctuated her every word. Mark jerked away from me, whacking his head on the top bunk.

"Shit!" he breathed. I opened my mouth to say something, but he quickly pushed his hand against my mouth, preventing any noise from coming out of me. He jumped from the bed as if electrocuted, digging through the pile of scrubs on the floor in search of his pants. "Hide!" he whispered to me, noticing I hadn't moved from my spot on the bed.

"What?!" I hissed. "Where the hell am I supposed to hide, under the bed?!" He gave me a look. "No. No way. Can't you just get rid of her?" Mark threw my scrubs at me in response, quickly pulling on his dark blue pants. "I hate you."

I flung myself under the bed, listening to Lexie calling through the door. I couldn't see anything but Mark's bare feet as they moved towards the door. That bastard owed me big time for this.

"Little Grey," Mark's voice said. He sounded tired.

"I told you not to call me that. My name is Lexie," Lexie answered. Her feet joined his as she entered the room uninvited.

"Sorry," Mark mumbled. I heard him feign a yawn. "What's up?"

"I've been looking for you all over. A nurse said she saw you come in here. How come you're only half dressed?"

"I was trying to sleep and it gets really hot in here with the door closed," Mark lied easily. Lexie took a few steps toward him.

"Yeah, it is pretty hot in here," she whispered. I could just picture her mouth, inches from his. Would she taste me when she kissed him? "Mind if I join you?"

"Uhm…" I could almost hear the gears turning in Mark's head, trying to think of an excuse to get her off him. Now would be a perfect time for his pager to go off.

Thankfully for him, I'm a genius.

I searched the scrubs in my hands as silently as I could, finally finding my pager hooked onto my pants. As fast as I could, I sent a 911 to Marks. That would give him an excuse to leave and then maybe Lexie would leave too, sex no longer being an option.

Sure enough when Mark's pager went off and he mumbled something about having to go, Lexie followed him out. I waited a few 2 minutes before crawling out from under the bed and getting dressed. I waited an extra 10 minutes before leaving the on-call room, not wanting to be seen leaving the same room as Mark Sloan and Lexie Grey. That was sure to get the notice of all the gossiping nurses. As I was leaving the room, I noticed that Mark had left his tee shirt on the floor by the door. I smiled and stopped to put it on under my scrub top, enjoying the feel of the cotton and the smell of Mark's lingering cologne.

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**FINALLY got this chapter out of my head on the computer for y'all. Most likely won't be back on till next week. I'm going to CT for the weekend. **


	5. Chapter 5

**A little shorter than it should be, but I wanted to get it up. Next chapter is for the Layla haters. Possibly. Enjoy!**

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I felt good walking around the hospital with Mark Sloan's tee-shirt on. It was like my own little secret and it was sweet as could be. Soon enough though, Mark came to me looking for his shirt. I hid a smile as he walked close to me, whispering inconspicuously.

"It's not in the room. Do you have it?"

"Maybe," I answered with a grin. Anger flashed in Mark's eyes and his mouth popped open.

"You're _wearing_ it? How stupid are you?" Alright, now that stung a little. I stopped walking, turning to face him completely. "That's a pretty dead give away, now isn't it?"

Oh. Right. I hadn't thought about that. Maybe I was getting dumber, but if I was it was his fault. Old Layla would never have overlooked a detail like that. Well, now that I was caught I just had to play it cool.

"Relax Marky," I said, knowing it would annoy him. He looked very hot when he was pissed. "No one can see it; it's on under my scrubs."

"First of all, don't ever call me 'Marky'. Ever." I tried not to giggle. "Second, I want my shirt back."

"Then take it," I teased, spreading my arms a little. Mark's head rolled to the side, staring at me in frustrated disbelief.

"Fine," he eventually agreed. "Tonight. We'll say we're going out."

"My place good?" I asked. Mark gave a quick nod and looked over his shoulders.

"Yeah. I'll pick you up at 8," he said. I understood that to mean that he was coming at 8 o'clock that night to get his tee-shirt. And maybe a little bit more while he was there. 8 o'clock couldn't come fast enough for me.

Finally it was 8 o'clock. I paced my apartment, waiting for Mark's knock. I was wearing nothing but his tee-shirt. It was a full five minutes later that he arrived. I considered being mad but I just couldn't. Not when he looked at me like that, a hungry look in his eye.

He came inside without me needing to say anything, pulling off his jacket before I'd even shut the door. By the time I'd locked it, he undoing the buckle of his belt. His jacket, shoes, and socks were already piled on the floor beside him.

"Can't you go any faster?" I asked, growing very impatient, needing to feel the warmth of his skin against mine again. I stepped forward and tried to help him undress, but only managed to slow the process with kisses. Neither of us minded at that point.

Eventually we had worked our way to the bedroom. He pushed me onto the bed, climbing on top of me. I didn't remember ever taking off the tee-shirt, but I didn't have it on anymore. His bare chest pressed against mine as his mouth continued to explore my jaw line.

Unable to wait any longer, I whispered in his ear two short words, a vulgar command he was more than willing to oblige. As he lowered himself and I silently prepared to go higher than I'd ever been before, a sound disturbed us. A loud ringing accompanied by an annoying buzz. A cell phone.

It wasn't mine, which was still in my purse somewhere in the living room. Mark tried to get up in search of his pants and his phone, but I held on to him. I didn't want to let him go when I was so close, not again. He pulled away from me anyway and the rush of cold air that hit my exposed skin caused a shiver much unlike the one I experienced when Mark touched me. I preferred the second one.

"It's Callie," Mark announced. He sounded surprised. I didn't really care. I just wanted him to come back to bed. "Hey what's up?" He came and sat on the edge of the bed. Callie spoke so loudly into her phone that I could hear her from where I lay.

"Mark, I really need to talk to you!"

"Callie, I'm out with Layla. Can't you call Arizona or something?" he said.

"I tried! I think she's in surgery, she's not answering! Come on, who's more important, me or Layla?" Mark sighed.

"You are. Of course you are. What's wrong?" he answered. Callie seemed to have calmed down a little now that she had someone to talk to and I couldn't hear her next words. "Your mom? What does she want? I thought they were all ignoring you….Okay, give me some time to drop Layla off at home and get over there. Relax Torres; I'll be there in half an hour."

"Oh, you will?" I asked as soon as he hung up the phone, letting the venom slip into my voice. He turned his head to me.

"I have to," was his simple answer. I sat up, gaping at him as he stood in search of his clothes.

"Quickie!" I suddenly suggested, the idea popping into my head. He stopped looking for his boxers, intrigued. "You've got 30 minutes before you have to be there. Please?" He seemed to think about it for a minute. When he looked up and saw me lying there alone in bed without clothes, he seemed to make up his mind.

"I'm a horrible person," he whispered, climbing on top of me once more. My entire body sighed with relief.

"No you're not. I am," I responded between kisses. He didn't say anything and I knew he agreed somewhere deep inside of him.

This time nothing interrupted us. And if I thought that there was fireworks display going off inside of me when he had kissed, it was nothing compared to the moment when Mark Sloan and I melted into one. It was like the finale of a professional display compared to a few backyard fireworks. It was like nothing I'd ever experienced before in my life.

Mark collapsed beside me, his breathing much heavier and more ragged than usual. Mine was the same. Sweaty and satisfied, we lay there for a full 3 minutes before anyone moved or spoke.

"That was amazing," Mark said. "But why did it feel so wrong?"

"It is wrong Mark. What we're doing," I answered, turning on my side to face him. My finger lazily traced his muscled torso.

"I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. I love Lexie. I do. But I can't stop myself when I'm around you." He finished his sentence by slipping his tongue into my mouth.

"You should go," I said sadly, pulling my head back and breaking contact with him. He placed his hand on mine, which was lying against his cheek, and moved it. "Goodbye Mark," I whispered. He didn't say anything, just stood and began to dress himself. Why was my heart aching so much, watching him walk away?

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**Told you I could do it Kristyn. -_o**


	6. Chapter 6

**This chapter was fun and easy. Why can't they all be like that? Enjoy!**

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**MARK'S P.O.V.**

After leaving Layla's apartment, I felt so wrong, so dirty. And not in a good way. Don't get me wrong, it was amazing will Layla. But it was amazing with Lexie too. So amazing that I chose to secretly date her, despite the wishes of my best friend. Was I going to do the same thing with Layla too?

No.

No, because I hated Layla. I hated her for coming in unexpectedly and making me need her touch so much. Making me need to be with her when I knew I should just go to Lexie. Lexie, my girlfriend, the one who wouldn't hurt a fly (intentionally). So why did my body tell me to be with Layla?

And why didn't I just refuse like my heart and head told me too. It's weird; normally people talk about how they follow their heart over their head or vice versa. I've never heard of the heart and head of a person joining forces to fight the body. It was a shame that, in my case, the body was so strong and so used to getting what it wanted.

I drove a little over the speed limit to Callie and Arizona's apartment. Half to make up for lost time spent at Layla's, half because driving with speed required my full attention. And if I was focused solely on the road, I wouldn't have to think about my most recent treachery. Thankfully there were no cops around to bust me.

"Mark!" Callie said as soon as she saw me on the other side of the door. She wrapped her arms around me. Then I knew something was definitely up; Callie was not the type of girl to cry while holding on to you for dear life, not unless there was something majorly bothering her.

I led us into the apartment and shut the door since Callie showed no signs of moving any time soon. I let her hold on to me for a few minutes, then gently pushed her away, holding her shoulders steady and stooping down to look her in the eye.

"What's wrong?" I asked. It took her a few minutes to collect enough air to speak.

"My mother called me," she explained. I sat her down on the couch, letting go of her shoulders and dropping down next to her. At first I didn't realize why this would upset her so much, but then I remembered the whole 'disowning thing' that had happened when Callie's dad found out about Arizona. Still, she seemed to be overreacting to me. But instead of saying that, I played the role of supportive best friend.

"Your mother? What did she want? I thought they weren't talking to you?" Okay, so maybe I wasn't the best at being the supportive best friend. Give me some credit though, the only relationship I've ever had with a woman previous to this was 'bang her and dump her'. Excluding a few flings that lasted longer than that, and what I had going with Addison.

"My…my dad had a heart attack. He's in intensive care, and they're not sure he'll make it," Callie quietly informed me. She let her head fall against my shoulder. "I don't know what to do. I want to go down and be with him, but I'm not sure….I think they all hate me Mark." This quiet confession caught me off guard.

"Callie, that's ridiculous. Anyone who hates you would have to be stupid. Besides, they're your family. They need you just as much as you need them right now, and even though you may not be in the best of positions with them at the moment, this could be your one chance to make it better. If you even want to." More like supportive best friend, right? I was pretty proud of myself. "Look, I'm not going to tell you what to do. That's a decision you'll have to make on your own. But if I were in your position, I'd want to be with my family." Callie took several deep breaths to calm herself down and for a few minutes we sat in silence.

"Thank you Mark," she said finally. "I know you're right. I should be with my family. I'm just afraid that they won't want me there and I'm not sure if I could handle all of it on my own….Do you think Arizona would come with me?"

"I think Arizona would do anything if you asked her to," I laughed. Callie laughed too, significantly less upset than when I had arrived. But then suddenly she pulled her head away from me.

"What cologne do you have on?" she asked. Random?

"Same as always," I replied, thoroughly confused.

"No you don't it smells different….It smells like…." She looked at me in horror, eyes wide with a realization unknown to me. "It smells like sex!"

"I…I was with Lexie!" I said quickly, mentally kicking myself with a steel-toe boot.

"Liar! You said you were out with Layla when I called you!" Callie accused, standing up from the couch. The mental foot kicking me exchanged the boot for soccer cleats. I looked at the floor, no longer able to look at Callie's angry, disappointed eyes. "I told you this would happen, Mark. I told you to stay away from her!"

"I know, Callie. I know. And I didn't listen, and now I'm paying the price for it." I stood too, trying to look like I wasn't falling apart. "You think I'm happy right now? You think I'm not ashamed of what just happened? I just…I can't help myself! I see her, and I just want her…not even, I need her. I can't explain it to you Callie. I just…need to feel her."

"What about Lexie?" Callie asked quietly after a long pause. My eyes flashed and I rallied up once more. I would have looked intimidating to anyone but Callie, who could always see right through me.

"Lexie," I began firmly, "is never going to know about this. Tomorrow starts a new day, and I'm going to be the perfect boyfriend and everything will be la-di-freaking-da."

"Is that what you're telling yourself?" I turned from Callie then, afraid my anger and frustration would explode and she would get hurt. I knew I had no right to be angry, except at myself. Which I was, trust me. I was totally pissed at myself.

"Damn it Callie! Stop it! Everything is going to be just fine, okay? Because I will _never_ do what I just did again. Doesn't matter how amazing it felt, I can hardly live with myself. Just the thought of what I did makes me want to die," I admitted loudly. Callie crossed her arms, staring me down. I could feel her eyes burning into me, examining me.

"I sure hope you're right Mark, because Lexie doesn't deserve you if you're just going to sleep around behind her back. She doesn't really deserve you anyway, but for some reason, she wants you."

"And I want her too," I said quietly. At last I turned back to Callie, pleading. "Please don't tell her Callie. I don't want to lose her." Callie was silent for a minute, contemplating.

"I swear to God Mark, if it _ever_ happens again—" I was on her before she could finish her sentence, my arms wrapped around her gratefully.

"Thank you Callie," I whispered.

When I left Callie's apartment, I checked my phone to see what time it was. A text message awaited me. Apparently I hadn't heard or felt it go off, and I was very thankful for that. The message was from Layla and I was pretty sure that Callie would have murdered me if she knew.

_You left your tee-shirt. Again haha. Want to come get it :)?_

What really made me feel sick is that the answer was 'Yes'. I did want to go get it.

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**Thanks for leaving awesome reviews. Let's up the quantity of them, k? =)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Due to circumstances beyond my control [sort of], I have been unable to spend much time on the computer lately. So I apologize for the lack of updates. Also, I am now juggling three fics (Would somebody please go read Bless the Broken Road? It's getting virtually no traffic.) and school is back in session starting Wednesday. Boo. **

**So, FINALLY, another Layla chapter :) Enjoy.**

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I paced my living room, chewing on my thumbnail nervously. In my other hand was my cell phone. My eyes stared at the small LCD screen until they stung so much that I couldn't resist the urge to blink anymore. Then half a second later, my eyes flashed open again, hopeful to see the screen lit up with Mark's name. It didn't happen.

Just when I decided to give up and go to bed, the vibration shook my hand and caused my body to jerk involuntarily. The bright light from the cell phone illuminated my now dark apartment. Relief flooded through my body so fast it nearly knocked me to my knees. I sat on the couch, flipping open the phone as I did so.

_Just bring it to work tomorrow. Pretend you found it in the on-call room or something. _

Well that was disappointing. And frustrating. I snapped the phone shut and threw it into the cushions beside me. I had been very hopeful that Mark would choose to come back and get the shirt. Too hopeful, perhaps. I had let my mind wander to the moment where he would walk through the door and I would feel his heat as he pressed himself against me, desperate to get inside. I had envisioned the moment so often in the past few hour that I almost forgot that there was a possibility that it wouldn't happen. The thought had lifted me so high that now I crashed harder than ever.

I sat in the dark for I don't even know how long, wondering why the hell not being able to see him until tomorrow brought me down so far and hard. And then I sat for even longer wondering why the hell it had caused hot tears to fall from my eyes. I couldn't stop them, hard as I tried to. I bit on my lower lip until it bled, trying to stop it from quivering so that I could focus on getting my breathing under control. Eventually I gave up, wrapping my arms around my knees and letting my head fall onto them. I could hardly breathe, but the comfort of the position I was in, curled up in a ball of warmth, was too great to move. I fell asleep on the couch, tracks of tears drying on my flushed cheeks.

I brought his shirt to work the next morning. I had a plan in my head that kept the tears at bay and put a smile on my face. I was going to smoothly and discreetly make him pay for letting me down last night. No one else would know that I had done anything, but it would hit him hard and that's all I cared about at the moment.

I froze momentarily when I saw him with Lexie. That was exactly where I wanted him to be to carry out my plan, but something snapped inside of me, causing me to slow to a sudden stop. The way his hand was intertwined with Lexie's, their fingers snaking together. The way he looked down at her, admiration in his gorgeous eyes. The way she returned the look. All of it made me sick until I wanted to drop, the pain almost too much to handle.

But I knew I was stronger than that. I took deep breaths, bringing myself slowly down to the point where I could walk up to Mark and talk to him normally. I reached into my purse and the feel of his cotton tee-shirt gave me the extra push I needed. It was time to make him hurt. And hopefully it would get him in trouble with Lexie too.

"Hey, Mark!" I called, hurrying to catch up with him and Lexie. I smiled as his hand dropped Lexie's as if it were on fire at the sound of my voice. _Feeling a little guilty Marky?_

"Yeah?" Mark asked shortly.

"I have something that I think may be yours," I answered, digging in my purse and extracting his tee-shirt. I saw a glimpse of shock and anger on his features before he smoothed them over.

"Uhm, yeah. Yeah, that's mine. Where'd you find it? I've been looking all over for it," Mark said quickly. His voice had an edge in it, silently asking me what the hell I was doing and if I was insane. I grinned in response.

"In one of the on-call rooms. It was on the floor when I went in there. I wasn't sure if it was yours or Derek's, but I figured I'd ask you first." _Don't worry Marky,_ I thought, _I'm not out to destroy you completely. Just wanted to give you a little heart attack. _Mark breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh…good. Yeah, I thought I left it in there, but it wasn't there when I went back in. You must've found it already. Well, thanks. See you around." Mark hurried off, pulling Lexie after him. I was very delighted to see that she was staring him down and that he was silently freaking out. A little while later, I received a text message from Mark.

_You're a bitch_.

A thousand responses swam through my mind. I searched through them carefully, trying to find the perfect one to send back. Just a few days ago, I would have been able to find the right one in a matter of seconds. Now it was an effort to think of something flirtatious. And why did him calling me a bitch suddenly hurt?

_So?_ I sent back a minute and a half later. It's amazing how hard it was to think of that one little word. This time yesterday, I would have thought of an entire sentence to respond with that wouldn't have rendered Mark speechless. Something was wrong with me.

In the past twenty-four hours, I've gone from sly temptress to…I don't even know what I've become. But I don't like it, at all. I knew the reason why. Deep down I knew that I'd developed feelings other than lust for Mark Sloan, but on the surface, I refused to admit it. I swallowed down those thoughts, tried to bury them in the darkest corners of my mind, because the truth is that I have fallen for Mark, and that scares the hell out of me.


	8. Chapter 8

**Gosh, it's been a while. That is partially due to school and partially due to the fact that I was boycotting writing anything until Kristyn posted another chapter :) She did! Chapter 7 of 'How Strong Are You Now?' is up, go check it out!**

**Okay, now I got to ask you....ARE YOU READY FOR THIS?!?!**

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**MARK'S POV**

For the past three weeks, I've been avoiding Layla Devon at all costs. The first two weeks were easy. Callie was here and she was able to help me out, since she knew what was really going on. Lexie was suspicious as to why I'd stopped hanging out with Layla, but she kept quiet about it. Mostly because Lexie always keeps quiet, but also because I think she was secretly grateful.

But it's been harder recently. Callie was in Miami with her family, and she had brought Arizona with her. So now there was no one I could vent to, no one who could talk sense into me, no one who could prevent me from doing what I feared I would do. And Layla has become pushier and pushier. On the few occasions that I wasn't able to avoid speaking to her, I had made up an excuse to get away. The excuses were getting worse and worse as the days passed.

And so now here I was, hiding in an on-call room (in retrospect, that probably the greatest place to hide from Layla in, given our history), praying that Callie would be home soon. The truth was that I just wasn't strong enough to quit Layla on my own and I could feel myself slipping closer to the breaking point everyday. Where I was right now, I could see that point, just inches from my reach. I did as I always did when I got scared like this: I called Callie...

…And got her voicemail. Not good.

"Callie!" I said into the phone, irritated and desperate. "Callie, I can't do this! I'm not strong enough to do this on my own, and you and Arizona are the only ones that know, and neither of you are here! I can feel it; it's going to happen soon. I'm going to break down. I really need you Callie. Please come home."

After hanging up, I dialed again, hopeful she'd answer this time. She didn't. I really wished I had Arizona's number. Even though I didn't tell her about my situation, and even though Callie promised to keep it secret, I knew she'd told Arizona. I had expected that and didn't really care. I knew that Arizona wouldn't tell and that she would be happy to help out whenever possible. It was in her nature.

But since I didn't have her number, I couldn't call her. And if I couldn't call her, she couldn't help me. I sighed deeply and threw myself backwards onto the bed, the pillows swallowing my head. For a few minutes I lay in silence, feeling the rapid beat of my heart. The sudden vibration of my phone caused me to jump half a mile in the air. I whacked my head on the top bunk, hard. Rubbing it furiously with my left hand, I checked my phone with my other hand. I was overly hopeful that it was Callie calling me back.

It was Lexie. She'd sent me a text asking where I was. Feeling a little disappointed, I told her where I was and waited for her to come. Even if Lexie didn't know what was bothering me, she could sure make me feel better. Maybe Lexie was all I needed right now.

She knocked softly before entering. She wasn't wearing her lab coat and looked to be on the verge of tears. Sensing something was wrong, I sat up, careful to avoid hitting my head again. I didn't want Derek to have to operate on me.

Looking into Lexie's face, the first thought I had was that she needed me more than I needed her. I stood quickly and crossed the room, eliminating the distance between us. Up close I saw that her eyes were in fact filled with tears and that her cheeks were flushed bright pink. I wrapped my arms around her and felt her break against my chest. Hot tears soaked the front of my scrubs as Lexie's tiny body shook violently.

For a while I didn't say anything. I let her get it all out. When standing grew uncomfortable, I gently led her to the bed where we could sit. I wondered what had caused this reaction in her, and of course my first guess what that Layla had told her what had happened. Panicking, I pushed Lexie away slowly so that I could look in her eyes.

"What's wrong Lex?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm and controlled. She took a few deep gulps of air before answering.

"I killed a patient!" she blurted out, her voice so thick with emotion that I could hardly understand it.

"What?" I thought I must have heard her wrong.

"Derek let me scrub in on a surgery today. He picked me over Meredith. So then Meredith was really mad and she and Derek got into a fight and she's been ignoring me, and while in surgery, I was so focused on that that I wasn't really paying attention, and then Derek called me out and I froze up, and the patient's dead now, Mark! It's my fault; I should have been paying attention to the surgery!" she explained in the rambling way she always did when upset or excited. I pulled Lexie close again, relieved that it had nothing to do with me. Was that selfish?

"Lexie, it's not your fault. We're surgeons. We lose patients all the time. It happens." I whispered, trying to be comfortingly.

"But maybe if I wasn't so busy worrying about Meredith—"

"Do you think that every surgeon that goes into surgery is 100% focused on the work? Of course not. We've all got a hundred different things going on in our heads, and that's never killed a patient before. This wasn't your fault Lexie." She didn't say anything more, but the flow of her tears slowed and eventually came to a stop, although she kept herself pressed up against me. I lay down, pulling her with me.

After several minutes of lying together with our bodies entwined, our warmth comforting each other, my phone began to vibrate. Callie was calling me back. I stared at the screen for a while, wondering whether I was going to answer it or not. I turned my head to Lexie, who was still snuggled up close to me, and decided that I wasn't going to answer it.

I realized in that moment that there was someone here who could help me. Lexie was here. Even though she didn't know what was going on, just being with her comforted me and pushed all thoughts of running to Layla out of my head. I kissed the top of Lexie's head, the sweet scent of her shampoo filling my nose.

"I love you Lexie," I whispered. She twisted her body so she could look into my eyes.

"I love you too Mark," she responded sincerely. I was fairly certain that if someone were to mention Layla Devon at that moment, my reply would have been 'Layla who?'.

Unfortunately, the 'Layla who?' feeling didn't last forever. Eventually Lexie and I had to go back to work and part ways. The warmth drained from my body with ever step Lexie took in the opposite direction. I considered calling Callie again, but before I could make a decision, Layla was standing right in front of me, blocking my path.

"No," I said firmly, attempting to push past her.

"Mark, I need to talk to you." Something in her voice made me stop. I wished I hadn't. "I'm pregnant."

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**:D I am evillllllll muahahahaha**


	9. Chapter 9

**School sucks, yo. **

**Sorry if the message isn't all too clear in here, but you should pick up on it by the end of the chapter.**

**Reviews are awesome. Thanks to those who have reviewed, and to those who haven't...boo =P **

**Enjoy!**

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"Mark, I need to talk to you," I called desperately. Mark stopped silently. He didn't turn towards me or show any signs of having heard me, but I knew he was listening and waiting for more. I wasn't sure what I was going to say to him, but I had to say something to keep him from walking away. "I'm pregnant."

I'm not quite sure what possessed me to say it. I watched the words slip out of my mouth and by the time I realized what they meant, they were too far out of my reach to pull back. Mark's head snapped in my direction so quickly that it must have hurt. But he showed no indication of being in pain, other than the emotional pain that filled his eyes and distorted his every feature. His eyes and mouth were wide open in shock and fear. I was pretty sure my eyes mirrored his.

"You're…_what?!_" he exclaimed, unable to believe the words he was hearing. I couldn't either, to be honest.

Now that I'd said it, I had to make a choice. I had to stick with it and tell him I was pregnant, or I could laugh it off as a joke, maybe pretend he heard me wrong. I was silent for several minutes while my mind worked five times faster and harder than it's ever had to before. Eventually Mark gave up waiting for me and took several steps forward, his hands gripping my shoulders. I didn't even feel the pain of his vice grip.

"Layla. Tell me you're not serious." Mark's voice was pleading and his eyes begged me to laugh and call 'April Fools!' or something ridiculous like that. I didn't.

"I'm…I'm pregnant," I restated quietly. For a moment, Mark didn't react. For a moment, everything was okay. And then my words registered in his brain. And then Mark broke down.

His head dropped pathetically and when he raised it a moment later, tears were preparing to fall. He quickly withdrew his hands from my shoulders, taking several steps backwards as if I had a disease. No, as if I was a disease. And unfortunately I was. I was a sickness that Mark had caught and couldn't fully get rid of. I was cancer.

"No…"he whispered. Then he grew louder and angrier. "No! You're not! You're not! You can't be! You're lying! Stop lying to me!"

Through the tears that now appeared on both of our faces, I tried to convince him I wasn't lying. I tried to get him to believe me. He was yelling and ranting so loudly though, I don't think he could hear me. He was getting angrier and more distraught with every passing second. He pushed me roughly against the wall, demanding that I tell him the truth. When I opened my mouth and once again attempted to tell him that I wasn't lying, he slapped me. My head snapped to the right with astounding speed. I now had a stinging cheek, a sore neck, and a sick stomach.

"Mark!" someone called. Hands pulled Mark away from me. Mark fought them for a second and then gave up, hanging pathetically in the arms of whoever had saved me.

I sank down the wall, my sneakers sliding across the floor until I was eventually sitting down in the hallway. I looked up and saw that it was Derek Shepherd who had pulled Mark away from me. He and Mark were talking quietly and animatedly to each other. Thought it would be more accurate to say that Derek was talking quietly and animatedly to Mark. Mark didn't seem to be speaking, although the tortured look on his face screamed at me louder than he had himself.

His head snapped in my direction. It was just for a fraction of a second, more of a twitch in his neck. But in that nanosecond, his burning eyes met mine and any kind of minimal control I had held on myself was lost. My tears doubled in intensity and my body shook with the effort of staying calm. I tried to keep as quiet as possible, but it was growing harder with every glance at Mark. And try as I might, I couldn't stop myself from looking in his direction.

After our eyes locked, I noticed that Mark had lost some of his recently obtained control as well. Instead of letting Derek and I (and most others in the hallway, who had stopped to observe what was happening), Mark turned quickly and stalked off in the opposite direction, struggling to maintain his stoic composure. Mark was leaving to call Callie Torres, leaving to find an empty on-call room where he could beat himself up, leaving to curse my name and my existence; the point is, Mark was leaving.

After watching Mark walk away with obvious confusion, Derek squatted down next to me. Although I didn't know him too well, he placed his left hand on my back and waited by my side as I pulled myself back together. He didn't speak or move at all until my sobs were to a minimum and I was able to breathe regularly. He looked at me questioningly, mentally asking if I was alright. I nodded briefly, still unable to speak. He nodded back and stood up.

"Th--Thank you," I gasped between breaths. He paused and looked down at me. I wondered if he knew what was happening, if Mark had told him while I was sinking deeper and deeper into self-loathing and contempt. But when he smiled at me pleasantly, I figured that Mark, like me, had been unable to tell him the news.

I didn't spend much more time sitting on the hospital floor. Mostly because everyone in the five yard radius had witnessed the entire altercation and was staring at me silently. People moved out of my way as I stood and walked down the hallway the opposite way that Mark and Derek had gone, but their eyes never left me. I felt them constantly, burning into me, examining me, judging me. I'd never felt so vulnerable before.

I walked without any intention or purpose, something that was completely against my beliefs. I realized then that somewhere along the path I had chosen, the one that chased Mark Sloan but could never quite catch him, I had lost myself. No longer was I Layla Devon, successful cardiac surgeon. Now I was Layla Devon, the lying whore who ruined a man's life for nothing. Nothing but false hopes of winning him over.

But how could I have won Mark over if I was the one who destroyed him? I couldn't have, ever. But somehow I'd made myself believe that I could make Mark mine. And in that obsessive mindset, I had spit out the biggest lie of my life: "I'm pregnant."

Panic rose in my chest as I thought the words and what they meant and the consequences of having spoken them aloud. My airways constricted and my breath caught in my chest. I shouldered through the nearest door before I started hyperventilating. I found myself in a well lit, but tiny, supply closet. I searched the shelves as quickly as possibly, finally finding a small paper bag, which I stuck to my face. After a minute or so of puffing into the bag, I felt myself calming down. Just as I deemed myself well enough to reenter the hallways and face the rest of the hospital, the door opened.

"Thought I heard you in here," Mark mumbled. He was looking at me, but was instead staring at the dusty floor with intense interest. I didn't say anything in response and after a moments' awkward silence, Mark tried again.

"I wanted to apologize…for before…" he said quietly. "My reaction was…not the best. It just…surprised me, and, to be honest, freaked me out. A lot….I talked to Callie and I've calmed down a lot now, and I've been able to think more clearly. I'm not sure how the hell I'm going to tell Lexie but…Are you keeping the baby?"

Throughout his entire speech, I listened quietly. It sounded more as though he was talking to himself than to me. But the last question, thrown in at the last minute, held curiosity and hope. I didn't know what he was hopeful of, but I was pretty sure he was looking for me to say 'No'.

"I'm not sure," I whispered at last. For a moment, Mark's face fell, but then his expression was blank again.

"Well…if you do decide to keep the baby…I want to be there. For the kid. Look, even if this was a huge mistake, which it was, the kid still deserves a Dad, right? I can't take that from him." My ears perked up. The beast inside of me, the one that had driven me to do all the things I had, lifted its head and sniffed the air hopefully. Was Mark truly offering to stay if I had this baby?

"Okay," I said simply. My voice was weak and low.

Now all I had to do was get pregnant.

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**She's not pregnant?! What?!?!?!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A little short, but I'm surprised I got even this much written. Enjoy!**

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Mark turned slowly, shooting me one last pathetic look. His eyes begged me to say what I knew I should. It was after his eyes left mine and the power of his stare released me that I made up my mind. I could not do this to him.

"Mark." I reached out tentatively and touched his arm. Mark shrugged away from me but turned back all the same, his eyes reignited with hope. "I, uhm…I don't think I'm going to keep the baby, actually…"

The relief that spread on his face was obvious, but was there something else there? A hint of sadness, maybe? Disappointment? Or was that simply my mind seeing what it wanted to see? Mark sighed, his entire body sagging as he dropped the weight from his shoulders. He let his hand, which had been gripping the doorknob, fall back to his side and turned completely around.

"Really? Are you…are you sure that's what you want? You don't have…you know, if you don't want to…" But as he spoke, I knew his words were false. They were so flimsy, I could see through them, right to his internal wish that I had meant what I said. I knew he was only going through this routine to be a gentleman.

"No…really. I don't want to ruin your life, or mine for that matter. I don't really want kids anyway…I mean, maybe someday, I'll change my mind, or…or something, but…not now." Mark was silent for a moment, his brain processing the situation and my words. Then, without warning, his arms wrapped around me in a slightly awkward but definitely friendly manner.

"Thank you," he whispered in my ear. I stood perfectly still, unsure of what to do and also afraid that if I moved, he would leave. He dropped his arms from me quickly, but I still felt the warmth of them, as though he had burned permanent marks into my skin. In a way, he did; I would always remember how he felt and how he made me feel.

He stood rocking gently back and forth between me and the door. He seemed like he wanted to say something or thought he should say something, but desperately wanted to leave. I could not blame him for that or for anything else. It was my fault we were in this mess and so I had to let him go.

"I'll be alright," I tried to assure him. "Go to Lexie. I'm sure you have some explaining to do about what happened before." I smiled bravely at him, but it probably looked more like a grimace.

"I'm going to tell her," he promised. He must have thought that that was what I wanted to hear. But I wished he had said the opposite.

"No!" I said quickly. Mark blinked, clearly confused. "There's no need to ruin your relationship for me. I'm just a stupid mistake; Lexie's real."

"So…you want me to lie to her?" he asked slowly. He took an unconscious step towards me so that I could smell his cologne. I felt sick in the stomach, head, and heart all at once.

"I want you to keep this part of your life a secret so that you can move on," I clarified.

…

"I don't know what to do Callie," Mark sighed into his phone. He had not even bothered to search for an on-call room. Instead, he was slouched on the ground outside of the hospital where the smokers crept off to whenever they had the chance. The ground was damp from the almost never-ending Seattle rain and littered with cigarette butts, but Mark was able to find a relatively dry and clean area beside the doors. "I really want to just listen to her and keep this between us, but at the same time, it wouldn't be fair to Lexie. And what if, sometime in the future, Layla decides I've pissed her off and she runs to Lexie about all of this? I'd be even more screwed than I am now."

"Mark, I can't tell you what to do, because it's not my life," Callie answered patiently. "But I will say that if I were in your position, I would tell her. It's better to come clean than try to cover it up."

"Are you sure this isn't Blondie I'm talking to? You sure sound a lot like her right now." Callie laughed shortly. "I guess you're right. I'm just afraid to lose her Cal. I've never been like this before."

"I know buddy," Callie soothingly replied. "I know. But it's the right thing to do. If you lose her in the process, it's a shame, but better back out with dignity than have it all blow up in your face later. Again though, I can't tell you what to do. It's your decision."

Mark half sighed and half groaned, letting his head fall backwards against the brick wall of the hospital. There was a dull thud at the point of contact, but Mark showed no signs of feeling pain.

"So when are you coming home?" Mark asked after a long break, changing the subject in an attempt to clear his mind.

I stopped listening and turned away sharply. I hadn't intended to eavesdrop on Mark and Callie's conversation, it had just happened. I was on my way out for a smoke (I don't smoke really, only when I'm really stressed or upset or something like that.) and I heard his voice. I found him sitting beside the door and quickly retreated so he couldn't see me. I was so close that I could even hear Callie through the phone. Spying was something I did without thinking about it.

I did not smoke my cig. After hearing Mark's conversation with Callie, the urge was suddenly gone. I was no longer wired and high-strung; now I felt dead, numb. I could not decide if I was happy that Mark would soon be single or if I was depressed I was destroying him.

If I was going to be brutally honest with myself, which I had been doing a lot recently, I was not at all happy that Mark was about to mangle his relationship with Lexie beyond repair, or that I was the one who had already screwed it up so much there was no way to fix it. I could not feel any joy in me at the thought of Mark, single and available. I wondered if that was because I knew he would not be with me even if he had the opportunity. But really it was because I didn't want to be with him if this was the cost.

So instead of taking a cigarette break to calm myself, I ran as far and as fast as I could in the opposite direction, finding an abandoned corner of the hospital where the shadows were my only witnesses. There I let myself feel all of the unknown, unexplained, repressed emotions I had been experiencing. There I broke down and cried like I had been given the death sentence, or had received news that I had stage four cancer. There I decided that I had to leave Seattle Grace Hospital to save both myself and the one I loved.


	11. Chapter 11

**Thought this chapter was never getting posted! Big thanks to Kristyn for talking me through it. Just so you all know, I don't really have a plan for this anymore. Don't worry, I'll think of something lol. Enjoy!**

* * *

On my way to the Chief's office, I paid attention to no one and nothing. My ears were deaf to every sound that was not the blood pulsing through my veins, which created a constant, pounding beat. Soon my feet fell in step with that beat and I focused on the right-left pattern of the rhythmic march as hard as I could. As long as I was concentrating on the march, my mind could not think of much else, like where I was going and why I was going there in the first place.

But not paying attention to where you are going is dangerous. There was a time when I would stop the people who were walking around without watching where they were going and yell at them for being so stupid and lazy. But I knew better now. The people who moved without care or purpose were not stupid or lazy; they just had more important things to be thinking about than where they were walking. Unfortunately, when you do not watch where you are going, you run the risk of bumping into people or things, and I did just that.

"Sorry," I muttered, not even bothering to look up to see who I had hit.

"Layla?" It was Mark, of course. I suddenly began to care. I stopped walking and turned to face him, only daring to lift my eyes for a moment before letting my gaze fall to the tiled floor of the hospital once more. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," I answered with mock cheerfulness. I looked up and flashed my famous fake smile. "Yeah, I'm…I'm fine. Great, actually. I'm just headed up to the Chief's office…."

"The Chief's office? Why?" He looked like he actually cared; but then, maybe that was just my hopeful eyes imagining things. I was not in the best state of mind, after all.

"I'm going to ask for a transfer so we can both move on with our lives," I said truthfully. It was surprising how easy it was for me to talk to him. Mark's mouth was open and his features were scrunched up as he tried to figure out what I said and what it meant. I waited a few minutes, but still he said nothing. He seemed to be trying to think of something to say. I sighed and went back to marching numbly to the Chief's office.

"Wait!" I heard him call to me, but ignored him. Nothing he could say could make me change my mind; I had to do this.

I lost some of my nerve when I made it finally to the Chief's office and could not quite convince myself to go in. I knew I had to, but I still stood rooted with fear outside the door, leaning against the wall of the opposite side of the corridor. My mind was arguing with itself, trying to make my feet continue their march into the office. It took a while to realize that someone was talking to me.

Cristina Yang stood half a foot from my left ear, rambling on about some nonsense that was probably supposed to convince me to let her scrub in on a surgery. Yang was hardcore into cardio; it was a known fact around the hospital. As a result, she had been trying to kiss my ass since I had arrived, thankful a Cardio-God was once again walking the halls of Seattle Grace. Yang talked big, but I knew half the words out of her mouth were bull. I was not stupid enough to think that she was an actual friend I could talk to. Those, I had none of. Except Mark, and I had screwed that up. Big time.

But as I watched her ramble on without hearing a single word she said, an idea began to form in my head. What Yang wanted more than anything was to scrub in on a surgery, especially a cardio surgery. I could grant her that wish, if she would do something for me. It was kind of pathetic, but I needed someone other than me and Mark to know.

"Are you interested in scrubbing in on open heart surgery this afternoon?" I asked suddenly. Yang blinked, not expecting me to a) speak, or b) offer her a surgery so easily.

"Yes, of course!" she answered excitedly. She began to babble again about how great she thought I was and hoe capable she was to assist with such a surgery. I did not care to listen.

"Good, then I need a favor from you. Do you know somewhere we can speak privately?" I ignored her stunned silence and waiting for a response with growing impatience. She nodded slowly and began to walk away, not even looking to see if I was following.

She led me to a steam room. I was a little surprised, but did not take the time to think about how she had known to come here. Instead, I wasted no time in rounding on her. She crossed her arms and waited for what I had to say.

"This is pathetic, and stupid—extremely stupid—but I need to tell this to someone else before I fall apart. I swear to everything good in this world, if you tell another soul anything about this conversation, including the fact that we even had it, I will make sure your hands never touch a scalpel again. Are we clear?" I threatened. Yang nodded quickly, eyes wide with fear and anticipation. I sighed, taking a step back and losing my mentor persona. Slowly, my mouth opened and my awful tale began to spill from it.

Yang listened patiently and silently as I told her every dark secret my mind possessed. I left nothing out. I told her about my first day, my first time seeing him, my first plan to get him alone. The only part of Yang that displayed the thoughts she was thinking were her eyes, which showed more and more horror with each word I spoke. But she didn't say anything, not even when I was done and had to leave so she couldn't see me crying.

…

"Hey! Hey…you okay?" Mark asked for the second time that day. I quickly wiped my eyes and smiled at him again.

"Yeah, really, I'm fine," I answered, a feeling of déjà vu spreading through me.

"You don't look fine…" Mark accused.

"Mark, I said I'm fine! What do you want anyway?" I snapped at him angrily. Hurt flashed in his eyes for a moment, and then they were cold again.

"I just thought I should tell you that…I told Lexie," he said. My eyes widened and I fought for control of my wandering mind.

"You…what?! Why Mark? I told you not to!" I was angry again; not at him, but angry at myself for letting this all happen. For wanting it to happen. "Did she…How did she…?"

"She told me to screw off, leave her alone. She's done with me and all that fun stuff…"Mark admitted. His eyes were on the floor and even though he spoke as though he could care less, I could tell it was tearing him apart. I felt the urge to wrap my arms around him and comfort him, but decided against it. I was the one causing him the pain in the first place.

My eyes flashed to the left, where the door to the Chief's office awaited me. With this new bit of information, I was no longer so sure of my choice to ask for a transfer. The point of me leaving was so Mark could keep this part of his life a secret and move on with Lexie, but if that was no longer a possibility, was there still a reason for me to leave? Or should I stay and see if there was a chance still for me to be with Mark?


	12. Author Update

**Okay guys, I think an author update is required here. I know it's been forever since I've posted anything. I've decided that because of school and other things, I've been too busy to write. So I think it's only fair to you guys that I tell that I will be taking a little break. I'm not sure how long this hiatus will last, but probably a couple of weeks. But I am definitely not just giving up on my fics. I will write them. But right now I'm overworked and unmotivated, so I'm taking a breather.**

**To my _Someday_ fans: I will write the revision. I promise, it is definitely getting done. I have some idea bouncing around, I just have to make time and sit down and actually write it. I'm hoping after the holidays, mayber during break, I'll be able to get that posted for you.**

**And to everyone: I'm sorry for the lack of updates. Again, maybe after the holidays I'll be able to focus more on this.**

**Please stick with me guys, I'm not abandoning you. **

**~Laurie**


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